EPIC Crossover
by M.A. Federico
Summary: The World has left the war behind it. The Kingdom San d’Oria and the Republic of Bastok is recovering from the war that cost them far too many lives. This is the story of a group of mercenaries who will be caught in the political conflict.
1. Opening Act The Damned Army

Author's Note: I have a website dedicated to this story, at dcs. ffproject .net/epic. You may want to take a look. :) In related news, I hope you enjoy the Opening Act of EPIC Crossover.

**-1 Act: The Damned Army**

In a hall lit by magical energy, a scarred man lurked in the sparse darkness provided to him. His scarred back was up against the wall, his gray form hidden within the shadows. He had slowed his breathing, and he scarcely blinked.

If the man had a name, he didn't remember it. If there were reasons why his entire body was scarred and covered in various tattoos, he would most likely lose count of them all. His skin had long since darkened to a grayish hue, and his long hair was braided. His lips folded over in a zombie like fashion.

His eyes took a quick glance at the corpse of the goblin, spotlighted by the light crystals that were hovering just under the arched ceiling. He had killed the goblin just mere moments before, and went to great effort to make its death as brutal as possible. It cried a good many times as the Nameless One choked the life out of it. He had almost felt the air escape its lings through the holes his fingers were making in its neck

Now, he was in the shadow, waiting. He knew that one of its fellow terrorist had hard its scream, the cry for help. If not, one of the terrorists at least heard the Nameless One hurling the corpse into the wall – multiple times, for that matter – before he escaped into the shadows.

For just a few minutes, he waited. Then another of its brethren ran onto the scene. Its expression was that of fear – the fear that something monstrous had been here...that that same thing was _still _here.

The goblin glanced around once. It looked around so quickly it stupidly missed the Scarred. Its green tongue licked its dry lips before it tapped the communication rune that was cheaply etched into the side of its neck.

Just as its fingers were moving, he had drawn out a slender knife from his belt. When the fingers reached the surface of the rune, he was already leaping for it. When it turned to stare into the cold eyes of its murderer, it was too late for it to even yelp. The knife plunged into the pink muscle that was the brain, blood flowing out of the wound like a fierce river escaping a narrow dam.

He pulled the knife free, and the corpse fell right on top of its comrade. He didn't bother to wipe off the blood onto his leggings. Let them come, he would say to anyone who could hear the words. I can't die, so there is nothing to fear.

Most who would say those words were over exaggerating the words, proud warriors who were all too convinced that their superior swordsmanship made them invincible to all others. But this one, this scarred man, he was not boasting – every word was truth. He had been ripped in two, an arrow plunged into his eye, a sword ripped away at his gut – he never died. He felt the pain, but he could never die.

It was an advantage, being a mercenary and all.

He tapped the communication rune etched onto his left shoulder. "Guys, how's your heading?"

The voice of Abarai spoke first. "These goblins and half-orcs are too easy. Hard to believe they know how to make warforged."

"Nothing can stop us!"

"Don't be confident, Luffy," the scarred one said. "You _can_ die, remember?"

"I lost Riku," a voice emerged.

"Kadesh, what do you mean you _lost_ Riku?" Abarai wasn't pleased.

"We were sneaking through, and a patrol separated us. He couldn't follow me, or else we'd be caught! We're not The Walking Scab, you know. We have to worry –"

"Enough!" The Walking Scab he may be, he had little patience of being reminded of the nickname. "Is he on his way to the generators?"

"It would be best to assume so. He's as good a fighter as anyone else. If Luffy can handle the goblins, Riku will be more than just fine."

"Hey! Is that an insult?"

"Just get your way to the generator. No more talk unless you need to!" A group of yeses and affirmatives filled his ear.

He continued on, and found himself at a fork in the road. He dug into his pockets until he found a crystal, and pulled it out. He tapped it, and the crystal emanated a holographic map of the terrorist complex. His eyes traced his progress, from the entry point of the mines down the elevator shaft, down to where a mixture of explosions and ambushes forced the team to split up. Skip a few hours of sneaking through the mine tunnels that slowly became metal hallways, avoiding what warforged patrols he could, killing the goblins foolish enough to be caught within his field of vision, and he found himself here.

One right turn, and it won't be much longer until he reached the generator. The question was, where were the others? Were they ahead, soon to be caught up against a massive force of both warforged and goblin, or are they way behind, and everyone else will have to deal with the enemy until the slackers picked up the pace?

He made a mental note to take up the issue with Dutch afterwards if the more expensive map crystals and tracking runes would be worth it.

He moved along the hallway, careful to maneuver at such a pace so that if he heard any footsteps he could slip into the shadows at once. That was how he did his best not to alert the whole mine of his co-mercenaries' whereabouts. He wanted to make sure no one was so close to the generators until it was far too late.

He heard footsteps. It sounded hard and heavy, like a pair of metal constantly being dropped onto the ground.

_Warforged_. Sentient constructs made out of metal and given free will, they were far too dangerous. He could take one down, but the battle would tear him up good, and he wouldn't heal for a good many hours, making him useless to his comrades.

He slipped to the shadow. He slowed his breathing, closed his eyes. He became stiff, his massive muscles blending with the darkness. He made no noise. To the untrained eye, he wasn't even there.

But there was a trained eye. There was the sound of something crashing through wall after wall. He realized instantly what was happening. He twisted his body, to avoid it.

It wasn't enough. The warforged busted through the wall, grabbed his massive form, and sped straight through the next wall.

Next thing he knew, he was falling through the air, the warforged beating his face good, as they both quickly reached the floor of the generator room...the place this warforged was likely born.

After having the six hundred pound of metal beat him in the face for the eighth time, he got pretty tired of it. He grabbed hold of the warforged's fighting arm, and squeezed. The metal, it began to crack.

That was when they fell at the steps of the generator, the massive rune ascribed stone that was a factory and producer of warforged all in its own. His spine felt like it had just went through a grinder, but he was able to get up. Minus the pain in his back, he was in fighting form.

The warforged on the other hand, its right arm was no where to be seen. A shattered stump was in its place, and the roar it unleashed told him plainly enough that the warforged had every intent of ripping his face off.

An arrow whizzed right past him, off by a long shot. He turned and saw a mixture of half-orcs and goblins firing a mixture of arrows and magic shots from magirifles. They weren't all at him, though...some were directed at a tight entrance way, where behind some turned crates Riku was firing. He didn't see is face, but the Nameless One could see the glimmer of Riku's silvery hair.

He was about to run over there when he impact of the warforged slamming into him sent him flying. He slid on the ground. He lost a tooth. He spat it out as he climbed to his feet.

He grinned. This warforged thought it was going to kill him – a man that can't die. It was funny.

He was about to charge when a iron hand emerged through its chest. It emanated fiery magic. The warforged exploded a cloud of metal, iron and magical particles. From the cloud stood the white haired Kadesh.

"Good to see that iron arm of yours is still working."

Kadesh raised said arm, stopping a bullet from hitting him in the head. He grinned. Noises of slaughter emerged from the platform above. They turned to see the red haired Abarai killing left and right, his chain blade twisting and scurrying as it sliced foes in half nearly a good three arms length away. On the opposite end was Luffy, shirt still opened, revealing his physique, his arms stretching wildly.

In mere moments, the terrorists had retreated, but they would regroup in due time. The Nameless One motioned his fellow mercenaries over with a wave of his hand.

Riku adjusted the blindfold that protected his oversensitive eyes as he tucked his pistol between his belt. His slender sword swung from side to side as he ran to the Nameless one.

"You guys still have those crystals?" Abarai and Riku pulled from their packs two long and slender blue crystals, emanating a dim light. "Good. Plant them and let's get out of here."

They rushed over to the generator. "There's an elevator shaft not too far from how I got here." Riku informed everyone as he shook the crystal before sticking it firmly nearly the generator. "We'll be out of here long before this place is blown all the way to the Abyss."

"And why the hell didn't Dutch tell us about this? Another half assed recon?" Everyone else shrugged. Nobody could quite do a half ass mission overview quite like their lazy employer.

"We beat them, so who cares?" Riku was overly confident, but he backed it up with his keen marksmanship and good use of his sword. He was still a pain to deal with, though.

"Let's just _go_," Kadesh said.

The Scarred nodded in agreement, and they ran off, Riku leading the way.

In fifteen minutes, they were gone, having boarded an elevator shaft that brought them to the surface. They wasted no time after that, making with due haste to escape the power of the explosion to come.

Four minutes later, they were safe.

One minute later, a massive explosion engulfed the mine, causing the mountain to cave in on itself. All that was left of the illegal warforged forge was a massive crater big enough for a city to fit in.


	2. Act One The Crimson Tear Chapter One

**Act 1: The Crimson Tear**

**Chapter One: Contemplations of the Orange  
**

The lady rested her elegant chin on her folded fingers, preserved delicately with years of not touching a single tool short of a pen in her entire life. She, Orihime d'Solidor, third princess of the King of San d'Oria, did not know the ways of the common man. A sensate she may be – a representative of the people – but she did not know the ways people lived. She did not understand their sweat, could not even begin to comprehend a life without the luxury she was raised with for her entire life.

The moonlight shone through the window in her bedroom as she sat at her desk. Her usually long, fiery hair was constricted and tied at her head. She was busy at work, writing a proposal of law for the next month's Gathering.

There was only one other in the room: Giho Dulorne, a man of twenty four summers. His hair shared the fiery red color of his lady, but he was built of much harder stock. His body was rough, muscles built from years of training under the harshest of weapon masters. Scars just barely trailed his face, only noticeable by those who felt his features. He was dressed in a black robe, contrasting the white robes of Orihime.

On the floor next to him was his beloved sword, Zangetsu. It was a massive blade, more of a cleaver than an actual sword, due to its lack of a hilt and guard. It was first forged by his great gandfather, and Giho inherited it in turn.

Giho was sitting on a chair, next to Orihime's desk. "You have been up far later than usual. Some would say that it is unhealthy."

"And I am glad you didn't say a word of it." She picked up her pen and continued writing out her proposal. "I need to get this written out in time for the next Gathering."

"You know it will be for naught. They will never recognize the need for the warforged to create more of their kind, even if they will die out in one way or another."

"It's important."

"To whom? The warforged, or yourself?"

Orihime smiled. "A little bit of both, really."

"It will just be shot down. The warforged are not well liked – not by politicians, not by workers, nor even their soldiers of flesh and blood. They would much rather forget that they made a race."

"If they are just mere machines of war, then how can they explain on agreeing to a certain treaty that set them free as beings who could think for themselves?"

"Perhaps they like to gloat they did what the gods could – make life. Or, maybe they are too blind."

Orihime turned her head towards him. "You _know, _they are too blind."

"I know, then." He stood up. "Blind enough to not see how the people should not be isolated."

"I am not pleased how my father made his people a prisoner in their own lands. Plague or not, a rumor without credibility shouldn't dictate such actions!" She sighed. "Politics is a monster."

"And perhaps you should be a lily amongst the gatherings of beasts and ugly creatures."

"And what if I am to be crushed?"

"And what if you make a difference long before that occurs, if at all? To be so worried, it is foolish!"

"You are just my guardian, Giho. How can you know what it means to debate, to bring up ideas that only means to help the people, and to have it shot down again and again!"

"The people elected you. That's a _good_ start. When was the last time a member of the royal family was elected, without using their connections?"

"Too long."

"You just being a sensate – that _is_ a good start."

"Sephiroth is a pain, though. If he wasn't there, I would at least have a chance with my proposals."

"He and his party have too much control. They exhibit too much influence.

"The House of Jenova is too used to ruling San d'Oria from behind the curtain."

"It would not be hard to kill him."

"I will not fall into such ways, Giho. Even if it is the right cause. I will not destroy my beliefs, not even in the face of Armageddon."

"And that is why you are the sensate, and I am the mere guardian who protects his lady, every boring minute of the day. Yes indeed, that is my lot in life."

"If he keeps his patience, he could be much more than that."

"Maybe. But tell me one thing: how does you staying into the early hours of the morning help you write a better proposal to those gray wigs next month?"

"Because I need to get it done much longer before that."

"At the cost of you losing your sleep, thus losing your wit?" He approached her chair, and rested his hands on her shoulders. "Your charm, even?"

"Few would say I have such charm, Giho."

"It is still an advantage."

"And I should not dare to lose such an advantage." She put her pen down and tapped the light crystal that barely hovered over her desk. "Fair enough. Time for bed."

Giho smiled as he walked to retrieve Zangetsu. Placing his trusted sword near the bed, threw off his robe, and crawled into bed with his lady.

"I feel cold sometimes, Giho. Can my guardian keep me warm?"

He wrapped his arms around her. "Of course, my lady. Always."


End file.
